


You're My Kill of the Night

by SnowInVenice



Category: Sander Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Deceit is a slimy boy, Demon AU, Logan is demon boss, Logan is evil at first, M/M, Patton is human and cute, Roman as demon slayer, Virgil is just tired, Warning: Deceit, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowInVenice/pseuds/SnowInVenice
Summary: Demon au. Patton has unknowingly gained the interest of the demon gang leader, Logan. Roman, an undercover demon slayer gets dragged into the weird affair after a run in with Anxiety, Logan's second in command. What ensues next is a cluster fest that threatens to not only destroy Patton's life but the whole town.





	1. Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write this for a very long time! Updates will be frequent, hopefully.

Hundreds of people went missing every year. 

They disappeared, between one breath and the next, in the blink of an eye.

In the space of a heartbeat.

And yet, in a town as small as Grimsby, where everybody knew everybody, nobody noticed. Or nobody wanted to notice. It's as if on the inside, the people knew _something_ was horribly wrong, and so they ignored it, hoping against hope that if they look the other way, the problem would cease to exist.

Just because you don't look into the void does not mean the void does not look into you.

And still the humans wandered, clueless of the dangers that lurked in the shadows, of how defenseless they were, how utterly ignorant.

Not that it would make much of a difference if they knew. Humans were, after all, such fragile creatures.


	2. Time to Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sander sides demon au. It was time to hunt, and Logan's attention was captured by something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so sorry for the very long delay, it won't happen again promise!  
> Also thank you to everyone for all the very nice comments and the kudos!  
> Just a sidenote, Logan is the bad guy at first, I just wanted to experiment with evil nerdy Logan.  
> Enjoy!

It was nearing midnight and yet the street was crowded with last minute stragglers, scurrying home with their hands in their pockets, heads heavy with thoughts, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. A silver sliver of moon peeked from behind wispy coouds, like chesiere cat's smile, and it promised nothing but ill tidings.

It was with reluctance that Logan locked the heavy wooden doors of the Library behind him. The faded yellow pages of 'The Timetables of History' called to him, beseeching him to finish what he'd started, but that would take all night, and as much as he wished it, Logan did not have all night.

_It was time, it was time, it was time._

The Library was perhaps the biggest and oddest building that sat proudly among rows of neat looking, ordinary houses in the town of Grimsby. There was _something_ not right about its massive size, the decidedly out of place Victorian built, and the musty, yellowed volumes that were stored in the ornately carved shelves. However, even if the people had any misgivings, they kept their thoughts to themselves. It might have something to do with the charming but slightly eccentric owner, with his amused half smiles and an unusual penchant for boring books.

Ah, yes, people adored Logan, even though he did not have the slightlest inclination _why_.

By all laws of nature, they shouldn't.

Turning his back on the Library, Logan faded into the shadows that clung to the corners. Leaning back against the far wall, he paid no heed to the wearily flickering street lamp nearby, it was about as effective as the sickly moon in the sky.

_It was time, it was time, it was time._

With pursed lips, Logan swept a cursory gaze on tonight's pickings. A mother hurried right past him, firmly holding the hand of her small child, her worn shoes barely making a sound on the pavement. Men in wrinkled suits and heavy hearts and a few teenagers looking for trouble drifted by, but none of them held any interest for Logan.

It was proving to be another futile night; empty and colorless, as it had been for quite some time. The weariness of the years was creeping up on him, and Logan wanted nothing more than to go back to the library and finish his book. He was considering giving upufor the night, when a flash of blue startled him out of his reverie.

A young man, probably in his twenties, was crossing the street, talking into the phone glued to his ear. His blue shirt was the only spot of color in an otherwise monochromatic surrounding, and his flip flops made loud thwaks as he went. Oddly enough, there was a grey cardigan wrapped around his shoulders, despite the balmy night air. He threw his head back and laughed as he passed Logan by, his eyes sparkling behind his square spectacles, the line of his neck long and graceful. Logan watched, mesmerized, and didn't blink until the grey cardigan had disappeared around the corner.

This person- he left colors in his wake as he left, the leaves he stepped on were blindingly green, and even the sickle shaped moon seemed brighter all of a sudden.

This was _interesting_.

Logan smiled. Something in the smile shifted his face, made him seem not human, brought to focus how unnaturally sharp his teeth were.

For the first time in a long while, Logan felt the stirrings of excitement in his chest.

_It was time to hunt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'The Timetables of History: A Horizontal Linkage of People' by Bernard Grun is a fantastic read! Highly recommend.


	3. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton just wants to go home, some one else might have another idea. Also, Roman is an unreliable adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I am on a roll right now so updates might be frequent, enjoy!  
> A big thank k you to everyone who commented and left kudos.  
> This is from Patton's side of the story, next up would be Logan's.

Unexpected (Part One)

A clock struck midnight somewhere, distant and mournful. As if on cue, all the lights in Grimsby went out, though it really didn't make much of a difference. Only the moon shone, smiling and silver, from the sky.

The shadows lengthened and rippled, seeming to have a life of their own. The world itself seemed to hold its breath.

Waiting.

_Watching._

Oblivious to the sudden, deafening silence that had settled on the town like a blanket, or the unnatural gloominess of the night, Patton ducked into the narrow alley that led straight home. The slapping of his flip flops against the floor was the only sound in the deserted alleyway.

'Roman, that did _not_ happen!' Patton exclaimed into the phone, kicking aside a discarded soda can as he went. The can made made no sound as it landed against an overflowing bin.

'Are you saying I can not take fifteen men by myself?' Roman asked, offended. 'I'll have you know that once I fought a hundred, nay, a thousand men all by myself and I won. And my hands were tied behind my back-'

'Sounds like you had a handful,' Patton quipped, straining his eyes against the inky darkness. Sure, the alley was never really bright, but there was always enough light to get by. He did not understand why it was so dark all of a sudden.

Maybe there was a power outage?

Roman laughed, distracting Patton from his thoughts, 'I see what you did there, but seriously dude, when _are_ you coming home? Your brats are driving me crazy.'

Jumping over and nearly falling into a puddle, Patton righted himself. 'It's way past bedtime!' he exclaimed, concerned, 'they should be in bed, Roman!'

'What? Oh yeah, they totally are,' Roman's voice was high and very unconvincing, 'they are not jumping around or anything.'

_'Roman-'_ Patton began, in his dad voice.

'Oh look, Tom and Jerry, I love this cartoon, I gotta go,' Roman hung up, leaving Patton to stare at his phone in exasperation.

_I should really think about hiring a proper baby sitter_ , he thought, shaking his head. Roman was his best friend, and Patton loved him dearly, but calling him a responsible adult would be an insult to every adult that ever lived.

Something rustled loudly behind Patton as he stood motionless in the middle of the alley, startling him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the weird sound, which was probably a large mouse by the sound of it, Patton quickened his pace, dailing Roman's number as he went.

The alleyway opened to rows of tired, greying buildings stacked closely together, like giant teeth. Shrouded in darkness, the buildings leaned menancingly over yellow patches of grass growing from between the cracks in the sidewalk. Most of the tiny, grime covered windows were closed; either to ward off the evil that so clearly lurked outside, or they hadn't been open in so long and were now stuck fast.

Heading for the relatively newer building that stood at a little distance from the rest, Patton gave up on calling Roman and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

He cast one last glance at the pitch black alleyway behind him- it was so dark, it was a miracle he'd managed not to fall and break something- and sighed. The main gate was black and sturdy under his hands, though it creaked a little in protest as Patton closed it. The building seemed darker than ever, so perhaps it _was_ a power outage.

The shadows in the corners seemed to dance and twirl as Patton watched, their fuzzy outlines resembling claws, sharp and ready. He blearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, blinking at the white spots left behind.

Since taking the elevator was out of the question, Patton sighed again, beginning the laborious task of climbing the stairs all the way to the top, the twelfth floor, where he knew his kids would be waiting for him.

He was home, at last.


	4. Unexpected (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising turn of events baffle Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long wait, I had exams and other boring life problems.  
> Anyways I am on a roll with this story now, so expect speedier undates!  
> Apologies if the chapter seems longer than usual.  
> Thank you all so much for all the continued support and love!!!  
> Enjoy!

Unexpected (Part 2)

At the mouth of the alleyway, the shadows undiluted, writhing over each other, their edges rippling as Logan materialized out of thin air and adjusted his tie. Even though there was no one around to see it - the humans were all safe in their homes for now, and everyone _non-human_ had learned by now to make themselves scarce around him - he liked to be presentable at all times.

A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he stared at the door his prey had just went through. It made no sense. Either this human was alarmingly unobservant, or unexpectedly stupid.

There was _no_ other explaination.

He had been stalking the little human through barely lit streets and twisting alleyways, allowing the lilting rise and fall of his high, clear voice to steer him along.

_This one has a nice voice_ , Logan had reflected lazily, his feet no more than a whisper against mud splattered ground, _soft and  mellow but with a curious edge to it. Oh, this one would scream so prettily,_  Logan took an odd pleasure at the thought.

There was a heavy weight in his chest, as though a hook was entangled in his lungs, warm and sharp and uncomfortable. It tugged and pulled him towards this man who left colors swirling in his wake.

Logan had followed him; breathlessly, compulsively, his heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

He'd followed his prey, and he'd fantasized about what was to come.

Logan's shadow creatures, the _Naar'falk,_ summoned from the depths of the abyss, slinked in the corners ahead, waiting for a chance to pounce. They were creatures risen from ashes and darkness, lesser than living beings and made only to follow their master.

Immortal and relentless, they resembled shapeless shadows, barely noticeable at first. It's only when they get close enough for you to see the wide, pupiless eyes staring back at you, feel the press of razor thin tentacles against your throat, that you realize that it's too late.       

Nobody has ever escaped the _Naar'falk._

In his minds eye, Logan could already see his prey's bright eyes widening in fear, lips parting slightly as though preparing to scream.

Logan relished the thought of the fear that would spread quickly across his face. He could almost taste the fluttering heartbeat, feel the struggle of flailing limbs, savour the desperation giving way to resignation.

Maybe this one would try to run. He looked like he might. Logan enjoyed runners, they made everything so much more _interesting._

Humans were always entertaining in their predictibility. 

His blood roared inside him, demanding and urgent, a tide that gained momentum until it threatened to engulf him. Logan wanted to own this little human. Own him and destroy him. Make him bleed and watch the colors drain out of him. Pull at his strings and watch him unravel.

He wanted to _hunt._

Instead, he watched increduously as the human jumped over a puddle, the darkness of the alleyway a halo around him. Logan watched him laugh and talk to his friend on the phone as though he wasn't being pursued by a being more terrible than imagination could cover (Logan didn't like to brag, but it was true), as though he was safe, as though he was not aware how very _weak_ he was. How _fragile._

Logan had waited, with growing irritation, for the human to notice that he'd walked in on a scene from a horror movie, but he remained stubbornly clueless. He ignored the rustling darkness and the unsettling silence of the surrounding. The spiny tendrils of the _Naar'falk_ seemed to pass right through him. Shadows rippling with sharp claws and blind eyes shied away from him as he passed.

Logan was preplexed, but furious. This was not in the plan. How dare this mere creature ignore Logan's efforts? How dare he not be afraid, whimpering and sniveling on a corner?

If he wanted, Logan could have snatched him up as he entered the building. But no, that would be to easy. And boring.

He wanted _fear._ He wanted the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of bringing down his prey after a bit of a struggle. Logan wanted all those things and more. He wanted _him._ He wanted the man who made everything around him bright. He wanted the only human who'd somehow kept the _Naar'falk_ at bay. And Logan _always_  got what he wanted.

Logan waited until he was sure the human had gone up the stairs, and then he strode purposefully towards the dilapidated building. The hook was a heavy and welcome weight in his chest, digging into his ribs. Logan let it guide him up mid stride, his feet treading the air as though he were weightless. The air was bolder up here, zipping through him forcefully. Cold fingers teased his dark hair out of it's place, making it whip about his face in wild abandon. His glasses frosted over in an instant and his tie slapped him incessantly, flapping over his shoulder.

His human lived at the twelfth floor, the highest flat. The tiny windows of the appartment winked at Logan as he perched on the one closest to him, the windowsill cold and thin beneath him. A few miniscule potted plants hung around the window, their bright green leaves whispered around him, swaying in the breeze.

From this angle, Logan could see into what appeared to be a tiny living room. The overhead lights shone on pastel yellow walls covered in picture frames. Mismatched chaise lounge and chairs of various sizes crowded round a tiny glass table, upon which an assortment of crayons were scattered, some of them spilling to the floor and rolling in every direction.

Two children, small and dark haired, crouched on the floor. Their coloring books lay forgotten on the floor as they squabbled over a blue crayon, their tiny, shrill voices muffled against the window pane. One of them was wearing an oversized orange beanie, it's brim slipping over his eyes as he struggled.

Logan felt hollow, as though he would float off to space any moment, carried off by the wind. The human, his prey- he was a father. Tiny human beings shared his DNA. He had a _family._

In all his years, Logan had done some questionable things, actions that did not bear thinking about, unspeakable acts performed with clinical detachment, but he'd never bothered children. They were off limits. Besides, he didn't think the kids would like what he was planning to do with their father.

A slight moment at the edge of his vision caught his attention, distracting him from his train of thoughts. There, half hidden against a beige high backed chair was another person. Logan had been too preoccupied to notice him at first. 

This was such a rookie mistake. He didn't know what had come over him tonight. Years ago, an oversight like this would have cost him his life. 

The person was reclining against the chair, scrolling through his phone, paying absolutely no heed to the fighting children. His skin was lightly tanned, as though he spent a lot of time outside. Even in profile one could tell how handsome he was, with striking light brown eyes and strong, regal features. His hair, darker at the roots and carefully styled, was an unusual shade of violet. The overhead light brought out soft pink highlights admist shades of darker, richer purple. 

Roman Foster.

Something clenched in Logan's stomach, a fist that twisted his insides like a vice, squeezing.To say that he did not like Roman, the only son of the wealthiest resident of the town, was an understatement. It was not only because Roman was- frivolously, excessively, unnecessarily- a thespian. Logan's opinion on _that_ particular form of art was not particularly a secret.

No, there was something about Roman that didn't quite meet the eye. Something lurked, predatory and dangerous, beneath Roman's theatrical facade and his ridiculous good looks. There was an almost animalistic glint in his eyes and Logan did not care for it. Not one bit.

Logan's breath ghosted on the glass as he waited. His fingers left tiny fog teardrops against the window as the night around him yawned and mumbled. There was a commotion in the room as his human appeared, smiling a little too brightly.

Logan watched in a haze as the kids dropped their things and ran to him, their high pitched yells distorted through the window.

'Daddy! You're home.' Loud and happy and unaware of what lurked outside

Dew drops slowly inched their way down the window as Logan pulled his fog drenched fingers into his lap, his mind a blur of thoughts. Tiny leaves nudged his sides as the air picked up around him.

Inside, the kids crowded round their father, talking at the same time, clutching his pant legs. He laughed and picked them up, while Roman clapped him on the back, and made his way out.

An unfamiliar ache settled in the pit of Logan's stomach. He had been alone for so long, he'd almost forgotten other people had families, that houses were not always houses, sometimes they become homes. That walls could be covered in tiny happy photos, and floor could be littered with smashed crayons and discarded books.

Logan would not think about his empty house, his bare walls or the many moonless nights that awaited him. He would not.

Taking out his phone, he dailed the very first number on his contact list. It was time for drastic measures.

'What?' The voice was deep and husky, breaking at the end with mingled sleep and irritation.

'Virgil,' Logan said by way of greeting.

_'What?'_  

Casting one last look at the human herding his children to another room, Logan turned his back.

'I have work for you.'


End file.
